Crimson Regrets
by Saint Lonely
Summary: When Ororo confronts Kurt with her feelings, can he face her with his own, or will he turn her way? Story has been revised! Please re-read!
1. 1

Disclaimer: Of course it doesn't belong to me, are you crazy? Marvel Comics, and for the movie, 21st Century Fox… So yeah, don't sue me!  
  
Author's Note: It's a K/O fic. And it's been revised. I decided that y'all deserved better than what I gave last time. I'm going to revise the second and third chapters too, and perhaps continue it further as well.  
  
Please review when you're finished. (Please?)  
  
Crimson Regrets   
  
Kurt Wagner stared out his window. For miles, he could see trees everywhere he looked. The forests stretched on and on, and he wondered if it would take him forever to cross them. The sun was setting into the blanket of their leaves, and they rustled in the wind to accomodate their new occupant. The trees served well as a bed to the orb, the smoke colored clouds the perfect pillow. The moon would soon rise and bring with it the darkness. He could feel his heart sinking in his chest as well, just as it did every night as he watched the sun retire. But today, he felt the regret deeper than usual. He'd hurt someone he loved, and sinned against his Father. Yes, the regret was unsually deep this eve.  
  
The wall he lay his head against trembled with each footstep, thundered with each whispered word, and shook at the slightest breeze. And Ororo Monroe was doing just that--he could hear as she paced the length of her dorm, could hear the whispers she sent out for only her ears to hear. Kurt closed his eyes, hold the tears from spilling over his eyeslids. She was the object of his affections, his first true love, and the victim of his confusion--a confusion that could only result in pain. He regretted everything he'd done thus far. He'd counted the sins with the tattoos along his body, scarred his blue skin. But no sin before could ever equal the amount of regret he felt now.  
  
Kurt pulled a dagger from his dresser drawer. The light reflected off the cross-shaped blade, sending prisms of white light through the room. The crucifix brought back memories of a story he'd once heard. A man, similar to himself, ventured, stumbling, through the forest. He'd been cheated upon, stolen from, and kicked to the ground to die. He was hungry, thirsty, and desperate for any shelter. And yet all he could think of was that his punishment wasn't deserved, and of revenge. Soon, he came to a clearing in the forest, and there was only a cross, with a man hanging from it. His body was bruised and battered, much like his own, and covered with blood. A crown of thorns was shoved into his head, the spikes protruding towards the sky like a beacon. He was Jesus, and through his pain, he smiled down upon the man. He asked the man of his many sins, and the only answer he could provide was, "Yes, Lord." His sins suddenly felt as if they were his own, and as Jesus' blood poured upon him, Jesus spoke, "I didn't deserve this either, but I do forgive you."  
  
Kurt need the clearing to be in the forest outside of his window. He needed to speak with his Lord, he needed to be reassured. Until then, he resigned, the scars would like his body, and his heart would be filled with the crimson regrets he spilled every night. He lifted the dagger again, gazed at his reflection. He stopped himself from cringing--midnight skin and yellow eyes; a tail and wolven teeth. Could they forgive him for his demonic appearance, or no? Kurt close his eyes and pressed the tip against his skin.   
  
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."  
  
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
"Kurt?" said a soft voice from the hallway. His door was slightly cracked; he'd forgotten about it in a rush to pray. Now that he realized it, he was almost embarrased. He wondered who'd heard his heart's every confession.  
  
"Come in," said Kurt, a thick German accent coating his voice. He raised from his knees and turned to face the doorway. "Ororo!"  
  
The weather godded smiled--she couldn't stop herself otherwise. Kurt returned with a pointy-toothed grin. Ororo felt her heart melt inside, just like all the other times. It was beginning to feel almost normal it happened so much. She wanted nothing more than to be swept away in the oceans of his skin.  
  
"Can I talk to you?" asked Ororo, somewhat shyly. Suddenly, she felt like a small schoolgirl. She hadn't felt this way in years, and it oddly felt good, somewhat challenging her mature senses.  
  
Kurt nodded, his tail swishing back and forth happily. He felt like canine whenever his tail swished around like so. He'd learned early how to control it, and now it fell limp, almost like he'd drained away the joy from it. He hadn't felt this way when he'd met Jean; he didn't feel this way around Rogue, although she was younger tham he. No, this was something new he was feeling.  
  
"I know we just met, not too long ago. And I know its hard to be living in a situation such as ours, especially after losing someone like Jean," began Ororo. She tried to still her voice, to keep it from breaking, but the cords didn't seem to want to cooperate. "But I find myself feeling something I never truly felt before. My eyes have been screaming to me since I first saw you, telling me to wake up and see what's really in front of me. My senses tell me so, my mind, and most importantly, my heart. It's hard to feel this way when you've tried to shun your past and only look ahead. Believe me, I never expected it. It's a miracle in my eyes; never in a thousand years did I think this would happen. And I never knew falling could be so easy, so smooth, or so soon. There's nothing at the bottom to hurt me, lest you shan't catch me. I love you, Kurt Wagner."  
  
Ororo was suddenly afraid of him teleporting away from her, leaving her without an answer, whatever it may be. She stepped forward slow, as not to scare him, and stroked one of the odd scars on his cheek... She wanted to explore the rest of his skin to see if there were more that what she could see. The scars were art in a sort, an art of sin.  
  
Kurt pulled back, drawing in a deep breath. He let it out just as quick as it had come, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He slumped down onto his bed, the old, rusty springs protesting the sudden addition of weight. He contemplated what to do, what to say. He was almost scared of her touch, for she knew not what she did to him.   
  
Ororo Monroe was a beautiful woman, one capable of many great things other that the moods of the weather. He felt the same way himself, but he didn't want to. If he were to say yes, and fall in love, he didn't know if he could stop himself from doing the unthinkable sin. He'd actually only thought of it once, resulting the very first blue scar. He barely remembered a time when his skin wasn't a canvas for everything he'd done.  
  
But if he said no, he'd turn away someone he loved, leave behind a soul mate. He didn't know yet if he wanted to lose it, and didn't know if he even wanted to keep it. Falling in love was strange, he thought, and this once was already enough. He didn't want to hurt Ororo either; another sin.  
  
Kurt opened his mouth, revealing the points of his teeth. They were sharper than an ordinary human's, and probably sharper than any mutant's as well. He knew the power of them, the force they could exert. He was going to speak, even though he didn't know what to say, even if it didn't make any sense.  
  
"Wait... Before you say anything," said Ororo quietly, as Kurt stood, towering over her. "Even if I walk away today knowing that you don't love me in return, I want to know what it feels like."  
  
"What feels like - " Ororo pressed her index finger against his blue lips, the warm stickiness of his saliva dampening her skin. She moved closer still, Kurt frozen in place, and she placed the other hand at the base of his neck, running her fingers through his hair. Her eyes glowed white, just another thing he loved about her, and the sky outside his window turned dark. A few stars made their way into the room, lighting it up in mock starlight, and then her eyes returned to normal, if ever there was a normal for mutants.  
  
Ororo took her finger away and pressed her lips up against Kurt's. His lips opened partially, in a gasp; She pretended not to realize it and probed her tongue into his mouth. With slight hesitation, Kurt followed her suit, knowing inside it was a sin, but something elsewhere told him it was alright. He paused again, then wrapped his arms around her chocolate waist. He moaned, the sound echoing inside his mouth and into hers.   
  
Ororo's hands moved over Kurt's back, tracing lower and lower. His shirt was tucked in, but she could feel more scars lining his back. She wondered briefly how he had done it, then turned her thoughts back to the moment at hand. She felt so right, so perfect in his arms. She had no flaws just then, nothing to hold her back. She had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.  
  
Kurt ventured his hands along her narrow waist, seemingly knowing what to do on their own. They moved up, feeling the smooth skin underneath her clothes. She traveled further into the depths of his mouth, moving her body closer to his as well. Kurt fell back, but caught himself and Ororo, grasping her tighter. She pushed him onto his back, falling onto his bed. She climbed over him, straddling his hips, and then leaned forward to kiss him again.  
  
Kurt knew what to do this time and he was the first to investigate the delicious area's of the goddess's lips. He nipped at them softly with his sharp teeth, somehow knowing it wouldn't hurt her as much as it pleased her. Ororo's breathing became heavy, and he found his was too. Something inside him began twisting and turning, and his stomach churned. She sighed with the rythym of his heartbeat, and she moved with the beat of his pulse. Suddenly, Kurt broke away, sitting up so that Ororo would fall away from him.   
  
"Forgive me, Father," prayed Kurt, turning his back to Ororo. "I have sinned, Father, forgive me, please. I know not what I do."  
  
"Kurt?" spoke Ororo softly. Her lip quivered and she bit back the whimper that was forming in her throat. The tears were gathering in her eyes, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back the flood much longer.  
  
"Miss Monroe, please," begged the teleporter. He couldn't bring himself to use her first name, couldn't bear to look at her. He fought the urge to vanish into the air and return some time later, but that would be cowardly and only hurt Ororo further. Kurt clasped his hands to his face and tried to calm the heaving of his chest.  
  
"You don't love me, Kurt. Am I right?"  
  
"I can't do this. Please, I can't." He shook the back of his head at her, and he began to rock gently, trying to stop from disappearing.  
  
"I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you," whispered Ororo as she stood up, easing the bed springs. With one last look at him, Ororo Monroe looked back at the man who shouldn't have been in her dreams, and then left, tears guiding her away.  
  
"I do love you," said Kurt, speaking so quietly he didn't know if even his own ears had heard it.  
  
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
The stars had gone and the sky was now light, save the black rain clouds coming in quickly. Ororo had probably called them, he realized. Kurt could picture her white, frosty eyes as she'd called in the starlit darkness. And then he recalled everything and his pain started all over again.  
  
He'd hurt her. He regretted almost every minute of it, with the exception of the feel of her body and his first kiss. He wanted her back in his arms, but he didn't want to sin, not again. Kurt pulled the dagger into his line of view, tracing the holy crucifix that had been melted into it. He searched for a place on his body not already scarred.   
  
He found one, at the top of his left foot. It was dangerous, as was any cut, but he needed to bleed for Ororo, for his sins. Kurt held his breath as he pointed his hallowed knife, and then dug into his blue skin. He couldn't feel the pin prick of the dagger anymore, he'd long since become immune. He pluged deeper; he needed to feel something, anything, again.  
  
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," whispered Kurt, then watched as the crimson regrets flowed down.  
  
Author's Note: I stayed up late to write again. Shame on me. (I actually write better at night though.) I hope you liked it. Please review!  
  
And if you were expecting a better romance… say, a happier one, don't worry. I plan on writing many K/O fics. I just love them!!  
  
And again, please review. How about cotton candy this time? ^^ 


	2. 2

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. I'm doing away with the last chapter, because it stunk. Trust me, my hard drive reeks now. ^.^ I imporoved upon this chapter, and if y'all want it, then I will continue it. Mind you, it may take a little longer for that. Anywhoo, here you go.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Ororo Monroe sat curled up in a chair, a plaid flannel blanket wrapped around her body, and a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. It was an old mug, one she'd kept with her since before she found her way to Xavier's school. She handled it with care, overly cautious of the frailty of the chipping ceramic. A baggy pair of worn pajama pants donned her long, chocolate legs, an equally big sweatshirt hung around her waist. Her pallid hair was pulled back lazily in a sloppy ponytail, and the remnants of the day's make up lingered in only a few places. A book lay at her side, the pages dog eared and the cover faded. She was in the library, with shelves of books looming around her, like a steadfast protector. A fire blazed in front over her, flickering the shadows into a dance; and the sky outside was already pitch black.  
  
The sky was characteristic of her mood, although she hadn't brought on the darkness. When it was daylight, wherever she looked, her eyes saw shades of black and gray, and if she was lucky, tints of sepia, though she knew outside it was light. She felt broken. A piece was missing from her heart, and no matter how hard or where she looked, she just couldn't find it. And even if she could, she doubted if she could fit it back into place.  
  
Ororo took a sip of her coffee, feeling the bittersweet liquid slide easily down her throat, though it left a scorching path. She hadn't bothered to sugar it; she needed to know something else in the world was as distasteful as her mood. She'd tried to be the actress, nonchalantly brush it aside, but it all came back to her in the heat of the night.  
  
She could still feel his breath against her cheeks, the frisson of his sharp teeth biting into her lips, the taste he had left in her mouth, and the scars his soft caresses had implanted on her skin. There was now blood, and no visible sign, but she knew they were there. She'd relived the kiss over and over in her mind. She had always hated reruns, but this was the sole exception. Ororo Monroe couldn't forget.  
  
In her room, her bed lay pushed up against the wall. And through the thin layers of plaster and paneling, she could hear Kurt's murmured prayers each night and throughout the day. She often wondered if someone so pure as the incredible Nightcrawler believed he had too many sins resting upon his shoulders, how many did she carry on her own?   
  
Everything in her mind told her to stop chasing, to forget anything ever happened. He was a mutant, but then again, so was she. He was blue and had a symptomatic demon look. He had sharp, pointed teeth, but despite them, had a smile that could charm anyone. He had a tail and intricately cut scars lined his body, each a symbol of a sin. And he was so truly devoted to God, so unlike herself. Sure, she believed, or she thought she did, but she couldn't compare to Kurt.  
  
Ororo remembered the first time she'd laid eyes on him. She called upon the weather to catch him, and with the help of Jean, had balanced him upside down. His accent had rolled out, melting each and every one of her senses. It still worked every time, no matter what the circumstances. She hated the fact that a single chord could make it happen, but she loved it too. And while her mind told her it wasn't right, her heart said it was perfect.   
  
Suddenly, she was compelled to pray. She placed the now cold mug of coffee a small table at her feet, tossed the blanket to the floor. The book fell down with her, and she placed her knees on the carpet just below the chair. She hadn't prayed in a long, long time, not since she'd came to Xavier's school. Maybe once or twice, only in the times she felt she needed a higher power than the weather to save her. And she needed that power now. Ororo clasped her hands together, then rested her elbows on the chair's seat cushion. They didn't feel right there, and didn't feel secure. Usually, with her hands placed as one, she perceived her being was confident and strong, and somewhat invincible. But no, not now. Definately not now.  
  
"God," began the trembling voice, a phonation she hadn't been acquainted with. "Have I done something so wrong as to push Kurt away? Did I hurt him in any way, or does he simply not love me? I tried so hard to make it go away, but I've found that when I push it away, it only gets closer and I am not strong enough or bold enough to turn my back upon it. But I tried so hard, God, and I failed. I love him, but he had devoted his own life to you. Can a man truly love more than one person?" Ororo paused, gasping for breath that simply would not come. She quaffed what little air she could take in and let her tears take the place of the rest she needed. The landslide of teardrops brought down with it what little makeup she still wore. She wiped it away with the palm of her hand, then, with a sniffle, continued.  
  
"I have many sins upon my shoulders, I know that all too well. And I don't believe any amount of begging and pleading for forgiveness would work. And I know I don't implore to you my wishes very often, and tonight may be the last. Please, take me into your arms so I may see what was unfeignedly meant to be. But I fear already that you've already forsaken my damned soul."   
  
Ororo broke down with a sob, her cocoa chest heaving with circumscribed emotions. She body slid from its position to the floor, and as she slipped, the fallible mug went with her. The deep brown liquid spilled out onto the ruby carpet, spilling onto her own crimson regrets that lined the floor, inch by inch. The ceramic busted, sending splinters of it's being into her side.   
  
Ororo Monroe didn't feel it. Her body had gone numb and she'd pulled her knees up to her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to close the doors to the outside world, shading her soul from the rest. And then, as her body went limp, she drifted into sleep.  
  
And when she finally awoke, the sun was threatening to rise. At the first blink, her surroundings didn't register. The room was tinted a rosy pink, the shadows playing on every angle of the room. The books stood predominate over her body, and then she realized. It all came back to her in flashes, so fast she had trouble remembering.  
  
She remembered her prayer quite clearly, and the feelings she had brought forth with those words. She still questioned why Kurt had turned her away, but she realized now she was in someone's arms.  
  
God's arms.   
  
He'd taken her after all, everything seemed right just then. She saw the world without seeing it first in black and white. Her utopia had finally arrived, and she knew what it felt to finally be loved. Her savior welcomed her with opened arms, quite unlike she'd expected. She lay in the position she'd awoken in for several moments, then decided to lift herself from the carpet.   
  
As she looked around, she saw the carpet had changed it's color. The flooring wasn't the red she'd always saw before, instead it was a deep, royal blue. The color of Kurt's skin. But then a pang in her side drove the Nightcrawler from her mind. The mug lay smashed at her side, and a red stain melted in with the coffee's. She reached for the domain that had been assaulted, and felt the brittle intruders deep within her skin.  
  
Ororo wrapped her fingers around the first shard she found and pulled, slowly and ever so slightly, but the pain was just unbearable. She told herself to stay strong, prayed to God for the will. But at the second tug, she let out a cry that she knew would be heard by all in the mansion. Instantly she regretted it, for she knew as well each mutant living inside the walls would come. Ororo clutched her skin, pressed it to stop the bleeding., and she held her eyes closed tightly as it if would ward away both the pain and the shards of the mug.  
  
A curl of dark blue smoke appeared at the ceiling, and then eyes inside the blue. They were Kurt's eyes, and though the image wicked and demonic, she somehow felt comforted by it. Then suddenly, the infamous Nightcrawler disappeared, then reappeared at her side.  
  
"Ororo? Are you okay?" The accent. It was still there, as it would likely stay forever.   
  
"Has the floor always been this color, Kurt?"  
  
"Blue? Yes, why?" The floors had been covered with her very own crimson regrets, and all along she'd been blinded by them. "Ororo, are you okay?"  
  
"It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts!" It was all she could manage before she groaned again in pain. She felt so weak. How much of her blood had drained to the floor?  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I was… I was praying, and I slipped." Kurt's eyes fell. He'd listened to her pray, listened to her sobs. He'd done this to her. He could forgive himself for making her cry, although he still couldn't, not yet, but hurting her like this… he wouldn't stand for it. "The mug broke underneath me, and I guess I passed out."  
  
He'd left before that. He couldn't stand watching her cry. It hurt almost as much as hearing it at night. Ororo had yet to forgive the rest of the world, the so-called normal humans that were against her, and now he'd added to the load of her shame, the burden of her pain. He must've turned away as soon as she slipped. He could've saved her sooner, but she hadn't called out to him then.  
  
Kurt could see it now. Ororo was wrapped in someone's arms and he found himself wishing they were his. The arms shimmered, a white that seemed to be composed of pure, natural light. And then the face. The face was that of what he imagined his savior to be. Ororo was with God. Her sins were gone; he couldn't see them now, as he could before, and she breathed easier now than ever.   
  
"I'll get you to the Professor," said Kurt as he stood up. He'd been crouching, too close too her. Too close.  
  
"No," begged Ororo. "Stay with me. Please, don't leave me. We'll wait for him to come. Please, don't leave me." Kurt didn't move, althought he didn't know what she was talking about. She'd called his name, and no one else would've came.  
  
The arms loosened their grip from her body, and his God stepped back. Ororo looked up at Kurt, right past the spirit that had held her. She couldn't see him. Kurt stepped forward as the man disappeared, and he knelt down to the woman he so truly loved. A streak of her hair that had been pulled loose had been tinted red, from her blood, he guessed. She struggled her way up, sitting higher and Kurt pulled her in between his legs, cradling her as he would a newborn babe.   
  
"It'll be alright," he murmured, and he planted a kiss on her forehead. Kurt wrapped his arms around the woman as he'd seen the spirit do, and he rocked her gently to the rhythm of their hearts, which now beat together, as one. A face arose from the shadows, and again it was the Lord. He smiled, creeping closer to Kurt, and then leaned in.  
  
"It's alright to love another, my child. I encourage you to take her into your heart and keep her there. She is good for your Kurt. Don't push her away, for both your sakes. And the feelings you're feeling are not a sin, you're just merely human." And with those words, the spirit was gone.  
  
"I love you," Kurt murmured again, into Ororo's ear, a single tear running over the scars on his cheek. "I love you so much."  
  
Author's Note: I know I'll get more reviews telling me that the religion in this story isn't correct. I know Ororo doesn't believe in God, rather she has more of a pagan belief. But guess what else? For the sake of this fanfic, Ororo is a Christian.  
  
Please review, y'all! I'll continue if you want me to. 


End file.
